Fateful Night
by ShleyAay123
Summary: Pitch Black is an immortal vampire forced to wander the dark, empty streets on an empty stomach. But then, on a single fateful night, his entire life is thrown into chaos when he stumbles across the most beautiful merman he has ever seen. PitchXJack, Blackice.
1. Chapter 1

Pitch Black did not believe in fate, but he supposed if there were indeed such a thing, he would consider it a cruel and unrelenting force.

Unable to walk in the light of day, it was rare to find a decent meal nowadays. Young children were forbidden to wander the vacant streets of night unaccompanied anymore, and rebellious lovers no longer had to meet in the shadows of empty parks and grassy hills to indulge in their physical desires. No, instead he was often forced to travel down the damp alleyways of known drug dealers and crowded bars in a desperate search for an easy target to hunt. The stench of ethanol and hydrochloric salt that coursed through the veins of the human vermin he was forced to feast upon was almost enough to make him gag—but a being as ancient and proud as he would never give in to such a dismal reflex.

On the best and worst of days, he much preferred the smaller towns of the coastal states, rich in thick forests and deep caves cut from jagged sea cliffs. While scarce in a vast blood supply, these locations offered him the small comfort of idyllic resting places for a vampire—dark, secluded, and filled with shadows for him to bend to his will. The caves he often sought for refuge were usually uninhabited due to their dangerous position among the rocks, and he was content in his solitude as the sun rose mockingly in the sky day after day. The moon was just as taunting in its splendor, though its precious light did not burn his grey flesh and force him into hiding. Still, he chose to ignore the pale orb among the darkened clouds as he stepped out along the slick, rocky shores that surrounded his most recent dwelling.

The night would most likely end in disappointment and an empty stomach. He had gone hungry many times before, of course, and he would undoubtedly go hungry again. However, he had nothing better to do, and a little exercise had yet to bring about his demise.

The primordial vampire allowed the shadows to dance in weaving tendrils around the hem of his black trenchcoat as it drifted across the stones behind him. He made sure to advance along the shoreline more carefully than usual, eyeing the still-glistening boulders that had fallen victim to the roaring storm earlier that morning. He had actually been quite enthralled with the height and ferocity of the ocean waves as the winds howled and wrestled in a childish tantrum not uncommon this far north. While the storm had passed many hours prior, he had been around long enough to know which violent outbursts left lasting impressions upon their elemental brethren that could result in a most unbecoming slip and tumble. So, he moved with caution, keeping his gaze fixed upon the ground as he turned away from the rocks and—oh!

_Oh_!

Just as Pitch set his intentions on the town beyond the beach, a gentle breeze carried the most delectable scent of untainted blood to his nose. He stood completely frozen as the smell sent delighted shivers down his spine, his parched throat suddenly tight and painful. Head tilted back and eyes fluttering shut, the tall vampire inhaled and sent his shadows out to find the source.

Such a mouth-watering delight—alive and vibrant, aged beyond that of any feeble human essence, and simply dripping with panic and helplessness! He could already taste a hint of magic hidden beneath a strong tang of salt and calcium carbonate, mixed with the dry but sweet aftertaste of juniper berries. What fine creature of legend had fallen so perfectly into his clutches after years of human scraps, he wondered?

The shadows returned to him just as the smell began to fade in its intensity, directing him to a tall cluster of black stones further down the bank and surrounded on all sides by gently rolling sea foam. His boots crunched and slipped against the dull gravel in his haste to reach the wide but shallow crevice in the earth, though he still had enough self-control to keep his guard up in the event of a defensive attack from his unsuspecting prey. Using the shadows to push him up the slick surface of the high rocks, he knelt into a deep crouch and bared two rows of fangs in a threatening hiss.

The sight that met his eyes stole all noise from his throat in an instant.

If the moon and the ocean had a passionate love affair, the beautiful creature huddled fearfully against one of the many rocks would have most certainly been their child. The boy appeared young and lean, with skin as pale and pure as the stars floating freely in the night sky above them. White tresses dampened by the crisp, unforgiving waters of the ocean deep fell in disarray as though caressed by the playful winter air. Wide eyes the color of crackling ice over darkened tide pools stared up at him, full of a fear masked by the wild fury of an animal cornered and having nothing left to lose.

The water was shallow enough that he could clearly see the shape of a long tail twitching nervously against the jagged rocks poking out of the sandy ground, flattened scales arranged in shades of blue that darkened the closer they came to the large caudal fin. This and the short pelvic spines that flowed from the boy's hips were a pure white that matched his short mop of hair, flowing and translucent but by no means inefficient. Whenever his tail slipped out of the gentle current of the ocean waves around him, the silver light of the full moon would reflect off of the overlapping scales and make them sparkle like a thousand diamonds.

Pitch rose from his crouch in slow movements, keeping his expression carefully blank and meeting the gaze of the grimacing merman. The storm had clearly taken the poor creature hostage, flinging him too close to the shore and into a small, shallow prison of stones with no direct connection to the ocean beyond. Small cuts that the vampire had not immediately taken notice of marred the boy's hands and arms, small droplets of drying blood staining the pale surface an unflattering red.

Just as he thought. It would be fitting for such a stunning being to be the source of the blood his tongue now itched to taste.

"I have to say, this is quite the surprise." Pitch stated, flashing his prey a small smirk. "It's not often I run into sea folk such as yourself. Have you gotten yourself in a little bind?"

"Stay away!" A voice much deeper than he anticipated, but no less enchanting, echoed in the calm winds of the night. The merman flicked his tail out of the water in a wide arc, sending tiny bursts of sea foam flying in Pitch's direction. The ancient shadow couldn't help but chuckle. Mermen were wild and unpredictable things, often causing unintended chaos by becoming too curious about the world above the waves.

"Or what? You'll smack me in the face with your pretty fins?" He clasped his hands behind his back, straightening his posture in an effort to seem even more composed—and, thus, more intimidating.

"W-what are you?" The boy demanded. "You're not human."

"Oh, no, no, not at all!" Pitch fought down a sneer at the very thought of himself in a weak, mortal shell. "I am what those fools call a _vampire_, though I prefer the title Shadow-Bender, if I am to be honest."

"So…so do you drink blood and stuff?" The merman's eyes flicked over the dark folds of Pitch's open trenchcoat, no doubt taking special note of the thin shadows that moved of their own accord. Whether the water dweller was attempting to stall for time or simply sating a curiosity that came with his species, Pitch found himself a tad bit put off by the phrasing of such a defining inquiry. What did not bend under any circumstance, however, was the burning thirst for the luscious essence that flowed in a panicked rush beneath the merman's pale neck.

"Indeed, I do." He promised. Pitch's smirk spread in delight when his prey curled up into a tight ball of terror, the glistening blue scales shielding his bare chest from the predator's line of sight. "And you, my dear boy, smell absolutely divine."

No, Pitch Black did not believe in fate.

But, if it did exist, it could certainly be kind and generous when it wanted to be.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack had done many things in his life that he later regretted. He had annoyed a pod of orca until the protective mothers almost made a dinner out of him, frozen the surface of the Antarctic shores to watch the penguins slip and fall until they tried to peck his eyes out, and had almost been spotted porpoising by more human fishermen than he could count on both hands twice over. Every time, he swore he would attempt to be more careful, and every time after he forgot that promise. The few merpeople he had managed to find in his travels were just as wild and daring as he, but they all had families to consider or friends to protect them from doing anything too foolish. Meanwhile, he had only the playful flow of the ocean Current and the painful void of his past to keep his thoughts active.

And yet now even the Current led him astray, thrusting him head-over-tail into a violent storm along the rock-strewn northern coast.

He hadn't noticed the muffled rumble of the thunders above, nor had he stopped to wonder why the throngs of swarming sea life had suddenly burst to life in a wild attempt to reach deeper waters. By the time his common sense had kicked in, shouting such encouraging thoughts as "oh no, no, nononoNO" and "GET AWAY FROM THE POINTY ROCKS, YOU IDIOT," escape was already far out of reach. The rushing tide was stronger than he had ever experienced in his 300 years of life, and the normally powerful pulses of his long blue tail grew weak and useless within five fleeting minutes. His skin bruised and caught on the serrated points of the high walls of sandstone as he tumbled with the waves, sending droplets of crimson flying in all directions when he finally landed in a shallow yet spacious tide pool near the pebbled shoreline. It was not in his usual nature to panic, but it did not take long for the cuts to multiply from his futile attempts to climb back into the wide waters of freedom.

"No! Please, no!" The white-haired merman tried every crazy tactic that flashed into his frantic mind, including a swimming start into a high leap that almost resulted in a splitting concussion. He fought back the burning tears of frustration as tendrils of silver frost spread beneath his fingertips, dispersing into glistening streaks as soon as the salty surface came into contact with his magic.

As the rain trickled away into a thick evening mist, Jack stretched his tail in the warmer sands of his rippling prison and licked his cuts with a bitter grimace. It was unwise to waste his strength away so soon after his fight against the torrent waves of the ocean. A small, sensible part of him noticed that his fins were all intact and thanked the gods for his good fortune, but his stubborn side simultaneously cursed them for not granting him aid while in such a dire circumstance. Long minutes stretched into tortuous hours as his battle collected its toll, replacing the pulsing adrenaline in his blood with cold, unnerving whispers in his heart.

_What if I never get out of here? _

_Will anyone even be able to find me? _

_What if…what if I die here all alone? _

Just as his panic began to reach its peak, Jack felt a strange prickling on the back of his neck, a frigid brush of calloused fingertips at the far fringes of his awareness. He snapped his head around at the swift drift of movement outside his field of vision, and his head immediately swam as he caught sight of two rows of sharp fangs, parted in a menacing hiss that made his injured skin crawl. He huddled against the rock closest to his back, his throat aching with the urge to scream but far too constricted in terror to release any sound. The hiss died away as the fangs vanished behind dark lips, snapping Jack out of his frozen stupor and allowing him to properly catch a glimpse of the creature before him.

Smooth gray marble stretched over cheekbones that were sharper than the rocks that had sliced his skin open hours before. A simple black trenchcoat draped over a thin frame as the mysterious shadow rose from his deep crouch, his expression unmoving and stoic in the gentle caresses of the moonlight. Blinding eyes the color of molten treasure drifted over the merman's dripping form, staring as intently as a predator waiting to pounce. Everything about this…this…whatever he was screamed danger and agony to any creature unfortunate enough to fall into his path. And, as lousy luck would have it, the creature on that night's menu happened to be Jack.

"I have to say, this is quite the surprise." The man stated, flashing a small smirk that barely concealed the ominous jaws beneath. "It's not often I run into sea folk such as yourself. Have you gotten yourself in a little bind?"

"Stay away!" Jack was, somewhat hysterically, relieved that his voice did not waver or rise in octaves. In a gesture of valor that he did not truly feel, the merman flicked his tail out of the water in a wide arc, sending harmless bursts of sea foam flying in the creature's direction. He forced back a shiver as the man chuckled low in his throat, not even flinching in response to Jack's outburst.

"Or what? You'll smack me in the face with your pretty fins?" The man clasped his hands behind his back, rising even higher in posture and standing proud beyond the merman's farthest reach. They both knew that Jack was at the other's mercy, that he had nowhere to hide and no manner of escape to employ.

So Jack did the only thing he could do.

He kept his tongue moving.

"W-what are you?" He demanded. "You're not human."

"Oh, no, no, not at all!" For a moment, the blue-eyed boy thought he saw a flash of disgust cross the man's golden eyes. It was obvious that he wasn't mortal in any sense, but Jack was still shocked at the sudden disdain for the man's fellow land-walkers. "I am what those fools call a _vampire_, though I prefer the title Shadow-Bender, if I am to be honest."

That made Jack pause. He had heard of vampires in tales whispered by older sea creatures in the past. They were said to be cruel, shrouded beings who subsisted by feeding on the blood of careless young ones who wandered too close to the surface in the dead of night. Some laughed at the stories and claimed that fish did not contain the type of essence necessary for vampires to live. Others cried in distress until the storyteller coaxed them calm with assurances that vampires were extinct, if not purely fictitious.

Yet this man, this very real and very intimidating man, claimed to be one.

"So…so do you drink blood and stuff?" Jack's eyes wandered over the vampire's figure of their own accord, taking in the plunging open collar and the curling wisps of dark dust thereon. The man was quite muscular despite his thin build, with a chest as smooth and spotless as his sharp face. Had Jack not been so terrified of losing his life, he would have acknowledged that, in a way, the creature was morbidly handsome.

"Indeed, I do." The stranger hummed, his simple statement full of unspoken promises. The merman curled his tail close to his chest, his primal instincts vainly attempting to shield his ponding heart against the dilating orbs that burned holes into his very soul. "And you, my dear boy, smell absolutely divine."

The sneering predator leapt from his place above the waters and landed with a thick splash on two black medieval boots, gliding forward effortlessly and barely calf-deep in the rippling pool surrounding them. Jack's breath grew cold and visible in the silent air as his lungs heaved in rising horror. The display made the vampire grin even wider, his tongue flicking around his pointed teeth in an unconscious display of hunger.

This was it.

Jack was going to die.

This evil being was going to eat him—_actually eat him_! Like a lobster being ripped from its shell in pieces, only Jack would not have the luxury of having his spine broken beforehand. No, he was positive that it would be slow and painful, if the man's wide-eyed delight at the sight of his panic was any indication.

"W-wait! Wait a minute!" He cried, his voice finally breaking under the never-ending strain. His mind was retreating, blackening the edges of his vision as the words flowed from his lips in a rushing whine. "H-how long has it been since you last ate?!"

"A few weeks. You have no idea how much of a _gift_ you are, little one." The vampire was within an arm's reach now, his grin almost splitting his face in two.

"Gifts are best reused!" Jack practically shouted.

Everything stopped.

The vampire's eyebrow raised, his pale gray hand outstretched but no longer coming closer to Jack's shivering body. It took a moment for the merman to collect the pieces of his shattered self, as well as to fully comprehend the statement he had just made. Apparently, his predator felt the same.

"…pardon me?" The sickening joy in his voice had disappeared, replaced almost seamlessly with barely concealed curiosity and shock. Jack swallowed, knowing that he had little to no choice in his next few moves.

He was trapped, he was helpless, and he was pathetically desperate to live another day.

"Y'know, when people get gifts, they—they like the ones they can use over and over again." Jack had never been given a gift, of course, but he had heard that was how things worked. At this point, he didn't really care whether it was true or not. "You said that it's been a few weeks, right? How long will it be until the next one? After you—"

He cut himself off before he could whimper the words that described his unavoidable fate if his plan failed. The salty air echoed with the gentle thrashing of the ocean waves and Jack's uneven breaths. Neither party stirred for a long moment.

"I…I can help you." Jack promised. "I'll give you my blood—if you let me live."


	3. Chapter 3

Pitch had heard many strange things in his long lifetime, but despite his age, he had never been propositioned before.

Begged for mercy, certainly. Offered wealth and riches, of course! The rare fool had even attempted to threaten him, and he had taken the utmost pleasure in prolonging their demise for their trouble.

But this…this was voluntary servitude.

He drew his hand back from the frozen body below him, fighting down the instinctive growl of frustration and hunger in favor of a more meticulous mental assessment of his prey. The beautiful blue eyes were wide and quivering, but as the vampire held his gaze, the burning defiance that crackled beneath suddenly flickered sharp and fierce. Even as the merman shivered in fear, a small part of him rose up to fight for his survival—lost cause, though it was.

"You honestly expect me to believe that you're serious? Do you even know what you are suggesting?" He baited slowly. The water-dweller swallowed. The fire flickered for only a moment, refusing to die completely despite the cold winter waves that broke all around them.

"I—I'll be at your mercy…I'll have to let you—" he cringed, but breathed through the dulling panic until he could continue in an unbroken whisper, "—bite me and drink my blood whenever you want."

"Indeed, you will." Pitch drew the dragging tails of his coat back over his hips and crouched down so that the two men were facing one another directly. "But you are not seeing the even greater picture, little one."

Noting the way the boy's dark brows drew together, though Pitch could not determine if it was from the confusion, suspicion, or something else entirely, he made a point to lower his voice to a deep purr of ill intent and unyielding assurances.

"Every bite will burn your skin until you writhe on the floor in agony. Every night under my hand will leave you weak and barely able to move. I will torment you; fill the rest of your days with unending pain and suffering. And, most importantly, I will keep you alive and whole through all of it, just as you have asked me to do." He smirked as each imaginary scene played out in the back of his mind, stroking the hissing darkness of his sadistic soul until he had the desire to drag the shivering ocean child to his lair without any heed of deals or compromises.

"So tell me, merman, do you still wish to offer yourself to me so freely?"

It was amazing to watch such a vibrant being turn into stone, completely lost to the crippling hopelessness and despair within. As the words of a dark future poured unhindered from his lips, the Shadow Bender stared in a spellbound daze while the fire behind those large eyes slowly faded into a straining simmer. The white-haired beauty's mystical blood practically sang with the untended instinct to either fight or flee, and Pitch had to dig the blunts of his fingernails into the smooth black leather of his pants to ground himself into the conversation still in motion.

"…if I agree…do…do I get a condition?" The merman asked, his voice gentle, thick, and hoarse. For the second time in a single night, Pitch found himself pausing in surprise. Not a full moment ago his prey was crumbling under the weight of his threats, to the point where Pitch was almost drooling at the smell of it all. Where were these sudden bursts of courage coming from?

"A condition?"

"Yeah. I have a few, if you're going to torture me for the rest of eternity." The once-perishing fire blazed at its full glory once more, nearly sending the vampire scurrying away with a horrified hiss.

He didn't understand!

How could such a tiny fish wear such a ferocious glare and not crumble beneath its weight?

"Oh, do you now?" He asked, forcing a huff of laughter to cover up his loss of internal balance. "Well, by all means, let us hear them."

"…okay. First, if you ever get tired of me, you have to let me go. No killing me under any circumstances."

Ah! The little one was smarter than he first appeared.

"Hmm. I can see why that would be a concern." Pitch said, crossing his arms and keeping his grin firm and concealing. "Any others?"

"Well, since you'll be getting all you need from me…I don't want you hurting anybody else."

Pitch's eyes narrowed as the dark waters took on a violent red hue. He stood so quickly that the merman's neck bones creaked in protest when their host moved to stare up at the seething vampire.

"_How dare you_!" He hissed, the shadows under his command thrashing in all directions in response to their mater's outrage. "You would attempt to control me? To give me orders of who I can and cannot hunt? You insipid, _impudent_, _**insignificant**_ little—"

Before he could finish his tirade of eloquent curses, the white-haired male suddenly shifted. A pale arm covered in jagged red cuts and dripping with sea water was held up towards his face, though their difference in height meant that the arm barely reached up to Pitch's waist. The sweet smell of his prey's lifeblood hit him hard from this small of a distance, and even with all of his strength and self-control, he could not force back the ravenous hiss that rumbled deep in his throat. He had gone so long without a meal, so many days on an empty stomach and a burning thirst tugging at his taste buds, that the simple proximity of crusting blood was driving him mad.

He lunged forward and grabbed the merman's wrist, yanking him halfway out of the water in his forceful haste. Had Pitch been in a more composed state of mind, he would have marveled at the lack of a struggle from the tiny body dangling helplessly from his hand. Instead, he parted his lips and lowered his nose to the glistening skin under his fingers, inhaling deeply and grazing the points of his fangs across the surface.

"Do we have a deal or what?" The harsh demand snapped Pitch out of his, admittedly uncivilized, display. Their eyes met over the blockade of flesh, dizzy gold to crackling blue. After a moment's pause, the Shadow Bender pulled away and clicked his fangs together.

Oh, how he wanted to drain this delicious creature here and _now_! But the endless possibilities registered through the thick fog of desire to a most enticing degree, and that alone was enough to make him pause once more. If he were to agree to the merman's conditions, he could have this meal for many centuries to come, should he play his cards correctly. He would not even have to keep his end of the bargain if he was careful to keep his prisoner unaware, and the ancient vampire would be set for the rest of his days with a vast array of delectable choices. He lowered the wrist a bit further, swallowing before he answered.

"I suppose I would be a fool to refuse." He snarled. "If you keep your end of the bargain, then I will keep mine."

"Swear it!" The boy said, raising his upper body even higher from the pool and balancing on the thick scales of his tail. "Give me your word."

Pitch rolled his eyes, throwing the trembling appendage back to its owner before bending down and removing a small blade from the confines of his boot. It was a silly custom among the mystical to bind their words with magic, to ensure that no attempts would be made to swindle or cheat one another during business transitions. Unfortunately for the small fish, Pitch had been around for far longer than such spells had existed, and he knew exactly how to fake compliance in such matters.

Holding the blade in his palm, he made a show of infusing it with shadows and turning the silver surface into a slick black. The shadows simply covered the metal rather than inhabited it, and when he sliced an X-shaped pattern over his heart with a mocking bow, they disappeared back into his body through the bleeding lines to join the rest of their brethren in his empty veins. He handed the dagger over to the silent merman, who eyed it with hesitation before accepting it. The blade glowed a brilliant blue and slicked over with a smooth sheen of ice.

It took him almost longer than Pitch's patience could take to complete the same ritual that the vampire had pretended to perform, binding his soul to the promise of slavery in return for a price his captor would never pay. The cuts healed over almost immediately, leaving a thin, pale scar over his heart that caught the gentle light of the moon when he moved. Pitch snatched the dagger out of his grip and stuffed it back into its hiding place, keeping a watchful eye on the form that slumped once more against the rock in defeat.

"What's your name?" He asked. The fear returned to those stunningly wide eyes as the little merman gazed up at him, tears brimming his lashes but refusing to fall.

"Jack."


	4. Chapter 4

Jack knew that it was foolish, but he hadn't any other choice. True, the horrifying descriptions of the days to come had been painful to imagine, and even more painful to accept as _his_ future, but…

But what this vampire did not understand was Jack's kind and compassionate nature towards all other living things. True, this fate was cruel and full of misery, but with the conditions in place, it would only be on him. How many human children would be spared this suffering if he could take it all himself? How many lives could he save with his sacrifice of freedom? He was a dead man either way, so why not make it count for something noble and good?

It had only taken a single moment of imaging a poor, innocent human victim being subjected to his new master's horrors for Jack to offer up his arm and entrap the starving heathen into his deal.

Now that the magic seal was in place, all strength and resolve left his broken body at once, and he slumped against the rock at his back in defeat. The long hours of fighting both the storm and the fear of the intimidating shadow before him left him feeling heavy and numb. He could feel the tears rising behind his eyelids, but still refused to let them slide down his cheeks even in his lowest moment.

It was over.

His life was over.

"What's your name?" The vampire asked, his tone somehow disinterested and polite at the same time. With great effort that he didn't know he could still manage, the weak merman lifted his head and forced the last metaphoric nail into his own coffin.

"Jack."

"Hmm, and I am Pitch. Pitch Black." He bowed slightly during his introduction, but the smirk upon the Shadow Bender's lips was anything but cordial. "So, _Jack_, now that that's all done with, why don't we take this somewhere a little more…private?"

Jack barely had enough time to register the statement before a shroud of moving shadows charged in his direction, flowing underneath him and turning the pebbled floor beneath his tail into a flat pool of darkness. Before he could brace himself, the water around them sank into the abyss and dragged his body down with it as he screamed in shock and terror. He had never experienced a fall of this magnitude before, and never through what felt like free, boundless air. The strange portal was warmer than the night wind, but he had only a frightened millisecond to embrace it before he landed in a floundering heap upon solid ground once more. The water splashed into countess tiny puddles around him and left him cold and exposed in a place much more secluded and confined than before.

He coughed and squirmed, his twitching tail flicking what little moisture he had left on his body out into the musky air. His arms ached with the force of the impact, and he noticed that the light of the moon no longer reached him in whatever dark prison his new master had thrown him into. A quick peek through his white bangs revealed smooth walls of compacted stone, with gentle droplets of rainwater leaking into the crevices as they fell from the high ceilings. It did not take him long to comprehend that the vampire had transported him to a cave, most likely further into the cliffs of the coast where no one could reach them.

Although all merpeople were capable of staying out of the water for prolonged amounts of time, the sudden journey through the shadows had left him shivering and frightened, and he longed for any possible sense of familiarity and comfort that he could find. He glanced around the cave in search of a pool, a puddle, or anything that could technically qualify as a water source, and heaved a sigh of relief when he spotted crashing ocean waves near the entrance of the cave. His desperation forced his tired body to move, slowly dragging his tail along the hard surface of the cave floor and trying unsuccessfully not to cut his scales on the odd jagged edges as he went.

He never even saw his captor approaching.

"Going somewhere?" The velvet voice asked from above. Jack gasped and froze mid-drag, having only enough time to close his eyes before a large hand grabbed ahold of his hair and tugged. He didn't bother to hold back his scream as he was lifted backwards off the ground, forcibly settled into a kneeling position on his tail with his head bent up and his neck exposed. Still keeping his eyes closed tight, he felt a tall body settle in behind him, pressing his shaking back against a smooth chest as long legs kept his hips in place.

"You promised me something, and I am tired of waiting!"

That furious growl was all the warning Jack was granted.

It was quicker than he thought it would be. All he felt was an extremely sharp pressure in the skin between his neck and shoulder, pushing deep into the muscles and puncturing everything in its path. He vaguely heard the crunching of what he assumed was sharpened bone plowing through tissue, but there was a distinct lack of pain as a strong arm wrapped itself around his torso to keep him in place. It was as if his brain had shut down, drowning all sensation in an eerie sense of calm weightlessness.

Then, the burning started.

Perhaps it was the air that tickled the punctured edges of his wounds that triggered the pain to settle in, or maybe it was the addition of Pitch's tongue as he lapped up the gushing blood before it could leak down the merman's shoulder. Whatever the cause, Jack was very shortly overcome with the fierce agony that traveled up and down his neck in burning flashes, tensing and twisting his muscles in constricted knots. The screams that ripped from his throat could have shaken the dead from their graves, and his fingers snapped up into rigid, curling claws as his body tried to adapt to a pain that felt like it would never end. It only got worse as the dark leech that had latched himself to Jack's throat began to suckle at his wounds, drawing his precious blood to the surface and gulping it down in deep, guttural moans of ecstasy.

Jack regretted everything. Every terrible thing that he had ever done that the gods would have been justified in punishing him for. He regretted making this deal, and cursed his heart for being so considerate of those he would never even know or meet.

_Kill me! _

_Please, let me die! _

_Let me die! _

He couldn't measure the passage of time through the pain, so it felt like days before the vampire tore his fangs away and released him. Jack fell flat onto his face, his screams having died down to croaking whimpers as the constant burning continued to flare beneath his skin. He clawed at the damp stones beneath him, desperate for something to hold onto and ground himself back into a harsh reality—anything was better than this feeling, even his enslavement to a monster. He almost thought that he heard a gentle laughter ringing in his ears, deep and torrent as the dark ocean waves in summer, but brushed it off as a trick of the veil of anguish surrounding him.

_It's too much, too hot! _

_Make it stop! _

_It's too hot! _

His instinctive magic flared to life deep within his chest, heeding his mind's frantic call despite his physical weakness. Using every ounce of strength that he had left, he raised his hand up to his wound and released the streams of white swirling tendrils building beneath his fingertips. His blood slowly began to crust over, sealing his gaping wounds closed with thick blue ice that tinted red at the edges. As the ice seeped downward and solidified, the fire began to die down to an irritating itch that he wouldn't be able to scratch.

His breath came in short, frantic gasps as he tried to steady his vision and reclaim his sense of self. The winter air that brushed past the cave was far too refreshing and so far out of reach, and Jack wanted nothing more than to plunge his body into the depths of home to fight the remaining prickles of flames that licked at the corners of his subconscious.

"Hmm. Fascinating."

Jack forced his body to remain as still and relaxed as possible, knowing that he would only agitate his neck if he attempted to glance up at his tormentor from the low ground. Besides, Pitch had already watched him struggle through the pain of the bite, and allowing the calm vampire to see his cascading tears would only rub more salt into his already unbearable wounds. What little dignity he still possessed was precious and had to be protected.

"Ice magic is very uncommon, even among the magical realms." The slow, calculated voice echoed all around him, seemingly formless and seeping in from all directions. "You are quite the little commodity, Jack. And I have to say, your blood is the most delicious I have ever had."

Silver fingers tainted with black smudges reached down and rubbed against a pale cheek, and Jack had to grind his teeth together to prevent himself from yanking his head away and ruining the delicate casing on his neck.

"You have no idea how difficult it was to pull away. I could have drained you all night until not a single drop was left." The hand moved up to his hair, which Jack now realized was dripping with more sweat than saltwater. "But you were right. A gift like yours should be treasured."

Jack pressed his forehead into the rough stone of the cave floor and swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. That bite had only been the first of so, so many more to come, and the praise and pleasure in the vampire's voice was more disheartening than any threat he could have spit down at him. He could only pray that Pitch would grant him the mercy of a resting period between tortures, to heal and gather his strength before the next one. Despite his immortality, Jack was sure that excessive bites would eventually kill him.

"Now, then, what to do with you? I assume you can't be out of water for too long, but I can't risk you swimming off to God knows where." An amused chuckle followed a short pause. "Not that you would, being bound to me and all."

Jack clenched his fingers into tight fists, and carefully used the thick parts of his palms to push himself upwards. He steadied his expression into one of composed indifference, though he felt anything but composed inside. Now that his breathing had calmed and the ice had begun to work its magic, he was left feeling nothing but cold acceptance. He _was_ bound, because he had chosen to be bound. He was a slave, because he _offered_ to be a slave. It was pointless to complain, unrealistic to blame anyone for his condition but himself.

And if he was going to be a slave, he might as well be an obedient one.

"Could you make me a pool in the back of the cave? That way you could keep me where you want me." He suggested, though his voice barely reached a whisper due to his previous screaming fit. He still didn't move his head, and so couldn't see the reaction of his hovering master.

"…Hmm…now there's an idea."


End file.
